


a better daughter (or son) and a real good friend

by himbodad



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Study, Coming Out, Gen, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Trans Character, Trans Dean Winchester, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29613168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/himbodad/pseuds/himbodad
Summary: The time has come for him to let his brother in on that not-so-little secret. Dean’s seen the way Sam looks at him, with the puzzled expression that only a thirteen year old can pull off. Their town isn’t exactly a gay hotspot. There isn’t another trans person for fifty miles, as far as Dean knows. Hell, even finding Charlie felt like looking for a needle in a haystack. Sam’s a smart kid, and he’s definitely starting to catch on. Better to get it out of the way then to keep it hidden.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 61





	a better daughter (or son) and a real good friend

**Author's Note:**

> my first spn fic! i'm hyperfixating, dean winchester is trans, what else can i say?
> 
> content warnings: reclaimed use of the word queer (mention of it used in a hateful way but brief), mentions of homophobia/transphobia, references to john winchester's a+ parenting (if there's anything else that i should mention/tag in the future please let me know!)
> 
> title comes from a better son/daughter by rilo kiley, aka THEE dean trans song

Dean taps his fingers nervously on the steering wheel of his car. He’s waiting on his younger brother, a giant of a middle schooler who’s got the lanky build of a clumsy scarecrow. Sam’s the polar opposite of Dean in many ways. That doesn’t mean Dean doesn’t love him to pieces.

Hence why he’s so nervous. He’s practically shaking at the thought of what he’s about to do, the step that he’s about to take that he’s never gotten the balls to do in person, unless you count his bullshit coming out to Charlie in sophomore year.

Dean’s bisexual. Realizing that was a complex process all by itself, something that took him years of overcoming internalized homophobia to accept. He’s also trans. That one… it didn’t take that long to accept, but it sure as hell took a long time to realize. 

In a way, he’d always known. Yeah, it’s corny as shit to say that, but it’s true. He’s been stealing his dad’s old clothes since he was in elementary school, tying his long hair up and tucking it into a hat until the guy at the corner store called him ‘young man’ as he bought Sam some candy with the money he’d saved up. 

He’d named himself Dean with Charlie’s help, after the hero in one of the cowboy stories he’d loved as a kid. For his middle name, he’d gone with Michael, after his paternal grandfather and Charlie’s suave gay cousin alike. Dean Michael Winchester. An unmistakably male name, and one that brought him immeasurable euphoria to be called by. 

The time has come for him to let his brother in on that not-so-little secret. Dean’s seen the way Sam looks at him, with the puzzled expression that only a thirteen year old can pull off. Their town isn’t exactly a gay hotspot. There isn’t another trans person for fifty miles, as far as Dean knows. Hell, even finding Charlie felt like looking for a needle in a haystack. Sam’s a smart kid, and he’s definitely starting to catch on. Better to get it out of the way then to keep it hidden.

Dean nearly jumps out of his skin when his brother knocks on the passenger window. Sam mouths something along the lines of “blah blah open the door, seriously I’ve had a long day”- all that crap, and Dean’s shaky hands reach for the lock. 

“I thought I was walking home today.” Sam says, apropos of nothing. “Didn’t dad say I needed to toughen up?”

“Yeah, well, dad’s a dick. It’s fifty fuckin’ degrees outside, and- damnit, you aren’t even wearing a jacket! I wasn’t gonna put you through all that.” Dean backs the Impala out of the parking spot, nearly hitting a seventh grader in the process. “Hey, don’t look at me! You’re the one in the road, you little bastard…”

Sam’s eyebrows furrow. He slips his phone back into his pocket, looking Dean in the eyes for the first time all day. Christ, he’s addicted to that phone. Dean reckons he’s texting his girlfriend who’s not his girlfriend, Jess. At least there’ll be one ‘ladies man’ in the family. Maybe John will be happy that way. 

“You look weird.”

“Jeez, Sammy, no one said you had to be a jerk about it! I’m just t- oh fuck right off!” Dean lays on the horn when a minivan full of screaming kids cuts him off. “Jesus, no one knows how to drive anymore.”

“Seriously.” Sam’s voice is focused. God, he’ll make a hell of a lawyer someday, Dean thinks to himself. He should start picking up extra shifts at Bobby’s soon, start saving for whatever expensive college his younger brother gets into. “I’m worried about you. Dad said you forgot to eat dinner yesterday.”

“Yeah, well he only knew that ‘cause I told him. And he had no right to tell that to you, okay? Can never have any damn privacy around here.”

Dean’s heart is pounding. He can’t help but give in to the ache in his stomach, the fear that twists up into his gut and tells him he needs to repress it all again, shove all of his feelings down until they stop affecting him. It’s not healthy, he knows it. But it feels a lot easier than coming out does.

“Hey, wanna stop and get some burgers? My treat.”

“You don’t have the money for that.” Sam responds. He’s correct, of course. Dean’s barely got enough money for gas every week. 

“Got no trust in me, huh? Listen, I worked a few extra hours last week, I got the cash. Now do you want some food or not?”

Sam’s a middle school boy, of course he wants more food. Dean can practically hear his stomach rumbling as they speed through the streets of Lawrence. Dean’s in the same boat, having not eaten since… a good 24 hours before. Not healthy, but he’s never been the healthiest, has he? 

For a while, food had been a part of Dean’s masculinity. Being able to shovel down three burgers in one sitting alongside his father felt like something A Man would do, along with poor personal hygiene and drinking a beer a night no matter how shitty he thought it tasted. He can’t legally drink, but it’s not like his father ever said anything. John was just glad his ‘little girl’ wasn’t growing up to be a wuss. 

The Impala pulls into a spot in front of a local diner. Now Sam’s even more confused. He would’ve thought they’d go to Harvelle’s, where Ellen would let them go without paying and bring them refills of whatever nonsense concoction Sam wanted to try. There’s something going on for sure.

Dean slides into a booth, gesturing for Sam to take a seat across from him. They order their standard: two burgers, two orders of fries, and two shakes. Dean’s go to is chocolate, while Sam typically goes for vanilla, because he’s fucking boring. 

“And why exactly did we come here? Because I seem to remember you saying we weren’t gonna eat out anymore.”

“Listen, Sammy, I can’t let you eat all that veggie crap.” Dean groans, knocking his head against the hard vinyl seats. “You’ll starve yourself. You’re a growing boy, right? Haven’t peaked yet?”

“Growing more than you ever did.” Sam snarks. Dean can see he’s still texting up a storm, and rolls his eyes. Of course. Sam has to save up all of his love for Jess, can’t spare any for his beloved older sibling. Ain’t that always how it is?

“You’re like, four inches taller, Sam. I don’t think that’s nearly enough to brag about.” Thank God for the Winchester height genes. Dean can’t imagine what it’d be like if he was trying to go through the world as a man of 5’2 or something like that. 

A waiter comes by and presents the food to the two boys without a word. He’s chewing gum, nearly popping it in Dean’s face when he leans over to grab the empty ketchup bottle off the table. Dean’s a bit in love. 

“Are you gonna ask him out?” Sam asks through a mouthful of fries. Dean gags.

“Chew your food, bitch.”

“Shut up! Jerk.” The younger brother grasps his burger in one hand and flips off his companion with the other. “Dad says you should get a boyfriend soon.”

“God, can you just shut up about dad? For once, I’d like to have one day that isn’t tainted by John fuckin’ Winchester.” Dean takes a deep breath. This is public, Dean, you can’t have outbursts like this. Internalize the anger. Let it fuel you. And when you’re alone in the middle of the night, with no one around to see but the night sky and the stuffed animal you’re too childish to throw away- then you can break. “Sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay. I didn’t mean to bring him up again, honestly. I was just… I dunno. I think it’d be nice if you had a boyfriend.”

Dean can see the window opening. He’s just gotta stick the landing now.

“And, uh,” this is it, the moment he’s spent years rearing up for, “what if I got a girlfriend instead? Would that be fine by you?”

Sam’s eyes go wide. He opens his mouth, revealing a half-chewed burger before closing it. His swallow is the most dramatic that Dean’s ever seen.

“Are you dating Charlie?” He demands. “You have to tell me if you are, you do, because I would tell you if I was dating someone and that would be so shitty of you-”

“God no!” Dean laughs. “Charlie’s a lesbian! Why would she… uh. Damn. Kinda missed a step here, didn’t I?”

“What does that mean?” Sam asks. “Is- are you. Not a girl?”

The last part is said in a hushed whisper, as though he’s trying to hide this revelation from the other diner visitors. Which, to be fair, isn’t a half bad idea. This is Lawrence, after all. Not the most accepting place on earth.

Dean nods. Tears are welling in his eyes, and his father’s voice echoes in his mind, about how Winchester men don’t cry. Winchesters don’t cry, they stick it out and they fight back against the world and they die guns blazing with their middle fingers thrown proudly in the air. And they certainly don’t cry into their milkshake as their younger brother stares on.

“Hey.” Sam whispers. “It’s okay, it’s fine! I don’t know, um, if we should talk about this here? But. We could talk in the car, or before dad gets home, or-”

“It’s fine, Sammy. We don’t need to.” His face goes steely, and Dean wipes at his teary eyes with the backs of his hands. He shoves his balled up fists into the pockets of the jacket he stole from his father years back, wincing as he thinks about what his father would say to him now. This isn’t who Winchesters are. Winchesters suck it up. Winchesters don’t let their brains tell them off. And Winchesters sure as hell aren’t queers or transgendered or whatever vaguely outdated term John heard on the news that day.

“I’m not gonna let you just brush past this, man!” Dean flinches, noticing the way the whole diner turns to look at his brother’s outburst. If his father hears anything about this, he’s gonna kill Sam.

Dean opens his mouth but the words don’t seem to come out. Instead he takes another sip of his shake, ignores the way his younger brother stares. Ignores the way the whole diner stares, ignores the whispers of “what are those damn Winchesters up to now” and “you know, I saw on the TV that women without motherly figures end up gay, d’you think that’s whats going on with her?” and on and on until Dean wants to slam his hands over his ears. He knows that it's a small town, it’s normal for there to be gossip and whispers. But it seems like every day the whispers get louder, curiosities turning into a riptide that threatens to break him in two. 

The brothers are quiet as they scarf down the rest of their food. Sam would argue the point, say that they need to go outside right now and have a discussion, but he knows his sist- sibling. He knows that there’s no way in hell they two of them are leaving until Sam’s older sibling decides they’re ready.

Dean tips more than he can really afford, making up for the minor outburst he and Sam had. The waiter smiles at him. Dean can’t smile back. He’s too busy thinking about what he’s gonna say to Sam, how he’s going to explain to his younger brother the complexities of gender and- 

Sam is leaned up against the door of the Impala, tapping one hand on his other arm impatiently. Dean makes a point to only hit the alarm once, so it unlocks his door but not his brother’s. The little jerk has the nerve to flip him off before Dean begrudgingly unlocks the other doors. 

“So. Are you transgender?”

“Damnit Sammy, how the hell do you know about that?” Dean nearly crashes the Impala in his confusion. Sam knows? He knows what it means, knows being trans as a concept that isn’t a slur or something to be despised?

“Jess’s cousin’s friend’s neighbor is trans. I haven’t met her but according to Jess’s cousin’s friend, she’s really cool.” Sam nods knowingly, and Dean can’t help but sigh in relief. His little brother may be a pain in the ass, but he’s too damn kind for his own good.

“I swear I was gonna tell you at some point, Sam. I just… wasn’t necessarily planning on blurting it out right then. So, uh. Sorry for yellin’ at you like that.”

Sam checks his phone again before responding. “Not a problem. I like silent meals, anyways. And I’m pretty sure that ‘coming out’ is a major life experience that can be stressful for LGBTQ+ people to undergo, particularly those whose identities are multifaceted like yours.”

“Jesus, are you reading off some PFLAG blog?” Dean leans over and sneaks a peek at Sam’s phone, which appears to be displaying a PowerPoint made by the middle aged mother of a non-binary lesbian. “Should’ve known you’d be like this.”

“Like what?”

“Just. So over enthusiastic. Sam, you’ve never been one to stop halfway, and it sure as hell seems like your, uh, allyship is gonna be the same. Hey, hey, no need to look sorry ‘bout it! I’d much prefer ‘insane supporter’ than homophobic bullshit.”

As the car cruises past the high school Dean attends, he sees Charlie out front, fresh from this week’s meeting of the D&D club. She gives him a knowing look, eyes darting between him and Sam. He rolls his eyes before lifting a hand from the steering wheel and doing a thumbs up. Charlie returns the motion excitedly before waving at Sam and continuing on her way.

“Speaking of homophobic bullshit,” Sam asks, “what are you gonna do about dad?”

“If dad never knows I’m queer, it’ll be good enough for me. And don’t even ask about the whole gender thing. There’s no way in hell he’d be okay with that.”

“And you’re just… okay with that?” Sam’s brown eyes are a bit watery, and Dean wishes he could lie and say he wasn’t crying too. But damnit, Sammy’s so invested in making sure he knows everything there is to know about Dean and his identity. Dean’s barely had anyone to talk to about this stuff, and now he’s got his precious little brother in tears over their homophobic father. If he weren’t driving, Dean would hug him.

“S’better than having to tell him and face the backlash. Besides, the second you’re 18, I’m moving out and getting as far from that asshole as I can.” He can’t leave Sam alone in that house with John. At least if Dean’s there, there’s another target. Someone to stand in the way when John’s in a mood. 

Sam wipes away a tear and slouches down in his seat. He’s still as tall as Dean sitting like that, which makes Dean snicker. The Jolly Green Giant’s got his work cut out for him with Sam.

“I’m sorry for asking so many questions.” Sam says sheepishly. “But I don’t want to say the wrong thing or- or do something that upsets you!

“Listen, kid, it’s gonna take a lot more than a few questions to piss me off. Better to get all this shit out of the way right now so I don’t have to get interrogated every day for the rest of eternity.” 

“Oh thank God,” Sam brushes off some imaginary sweat from his brow, “because I have a few more questions for you.”

Dean rolls his eyes. For fuck’s sake, couldn’t his little brother act normal for five seconds? Hell, Dean acts more like a man than he does, and he’s a ‘girl with a lesbian haircut and a few too many scars’ according to his uncle. “Ask away, Detective Winchester.” 

“Are you a trans man, or non-binary? Or something else? And what pronouns do you use? And-“

“Okay, questions are fair game, but maybe let’s go one at a time, alright?” A violent nod from the passenger seat. “Alright. I don’t like super specific labels on most of this shit, but I guess I’m closer to a trans guy than anything else, and I’m uh… well, I think bisexual and queer are both fitting, just depends on how I’m feelin’ I guess. I use he/him pronouns. I dunno, Sam, I don’t like talking about this shit. ‘Specially not with my bitch little brother.”

“Jerk.”

“That’s a hate crime, Sammy.” Dean responds solemnly. “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to turn you in to the authorities. Gonna end up doing 2-10 in Douglas County if you keep it up.”

“Are you serious?” His voice is a frightened, sharp murmur.

Dean bursts out laughing. “For fuck’s sake, Sam, you need to learn the meaning of sarcasm ‘fore you get older and think someone’s actually asking you to kiss their ass! No, dumbass, I was kidding. Jesus.”

“I know what sarcasm is… oh, wait! Did you say what your name is?” Dean thanks whatever deities are watching over him that Sam stopped himself before repeating his deadname. It’s bad enough he has to spend all day at school and at work getting called some chick name that hasn’t fit him since he was a kid.

“Dean. Dean Michael Winchester.”

“Dean.” Sam repeats slowly, like he has to savor every syllable and truly understand his brother for the first time. “Well Dean, I have something important to tell you too.”

“Sammy, I swear to god if you’re trying to sabotage my coming out with another coming ou-”

“The light’s green! Man, you’re dense sometimes.” Dean’s eyes widen, and he slams his foot on the gas, narrowly getting through the busy intersection before the light turns red. “I didn’t think that being a man made you inherently dumb, but maybe I was wrong.”

“Shut up, asshole. How’s puberty going?”

“Hey, I’m gettin’ off easy.” Sam winks. “You have to go through two of those now, don’t you?”

Dean reaches a hand over and shoves his little brother’s head into the window, ignoring Sam’s protests. 

“You have to go through two of those…” Dean repeats, mimicking Sam’s voice down to the voice crack in between the second and third word.

“Dean?” Sam asks, words muffled by the pressure of the glass against his cheek. “Get this- you’re gonna have voice cracks too. Only you’ll be older and it’ll be even more fun to make fun of you for it.”

“This is a hate crime.” He deadpans again, pulling the Impala into the driveway of the Winchester home. “Get out of my car before I break your face. Bitch.”

“Jerk.” The gangly middle schooler grabs his backpack from the floor of his brother’s car and bolts towards the door. “Last one in has to pay for dinner!”

“You don’t have keys, Sam!” Sam halts in his tracks, sheepishly burying his red face behind a shield of floppy brown hair. “That’s what I thought! Now, what were you thinking for food tonight? If I were paying, I’d say we go to the taco place ‘round the corner, but if you’re offering then I think…”

“This isn’t funny, Dean.” Sam crosses his arms, one step away from stomping his foot like a petulant toddler as his brother opens the door. “I don’t even have a job, how am I supposed to pay for food?”

“Go get a job then!” Dean kicks off his boots in the doorway and his sock clad feet pad down the hall. “You might not be old enough, but you’re sure as hell tall enough! We’re gonna have to remodel the ceilings if you keep it up.”

“You’re just jealous ‘cause you’re short!” Sam yells. “You got mom’s height, that’s for sure.”

“And yet another hate crime! Two more and you get a free drink at any participating McDonald’s.” Dean pokes his head around the corner, miming ripping a hole in a punch card.

“Why McDonald’s, exactly?”

Dean looks up at Sam before walking over to the stairs and marching up them triumphantly until they’re at eye level. “Everyone knows that Ronald’s gay.”

“Really? Cause the lore says-”

“Oh the lore, the lore- it’s McDonald’s, Sam! There is no lore! I swear, you give a kid one library card and suddenly he’s a fuckin’ Harvard professor.”

Sam sighs, hurtling himself over the side of the couch and curling up in a ball the second his head lands on its cushioned surface. He looks ridiculous, a giant teen trying to take up as little space as possible. Dean loves him, he really does. Even if he’s a massive dick.

“Sam… I’m glad we, uh. Talked this all out. The stuff about me, not about Ronald.” Dean’s subconsciously lowering his voice like he always does, but it feels weird now that Sam knows. Like he’s trying too hard to be something he was never meant to be. “It’s just you and Charlie who know, ‘case you were wondering.”

“I’m glad you feel like you can trust me with this, Dean.” Sam’s face is serious as ever as he sits up, puppy dog eyes locking with Dean’s. “I love you. That isn’t gonna change any time soon.”

“You love me? That’s… that’s kinda gay, Sammy.” He holds back his laughter to the best of his ability. The best of his ability is not very effective, in Sam’s opinion.

“I’m just trying to be nice, and here you go with the homophobia again-”

“How can I be homophobic if I’m a homo, Sam? An’ you can’t get mad at me for saying that, ‘cause I am one. Man, it feels so nice gettin’ to make all these jokes now. I’ve been saving them up for years now, got an arsenal at the ready.”

“Is there any way you can go back into the closet?” Sam groans, “Because I’m already getting tired of this. I was just trying to be supportive.”

“I really do appreciate it, Sam, I do. But my no chick flick moments rule doesn’t stop for anything, and you’re getting dangerously close to ‘13 Going on 30’.”

“That’s the first chick flick you could think of, huh?”

“Hey, I’m not a chick, I’m not into that shit.” Dean shoves Sam futilely. He’s really gotta work out more if he wants to still be the big brother in this equation. His muscles are pitifully small, and that just won’t do when it comes to tormenting his brother.

“Whatever. Are we done with this? I told Jess I’d call her once I got home, we’re gonna watch some TV over the phone together.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re done. Go hang out with your girlfriend, kiddo.” Dean ruffles Sam’s hair until each strand is poking out in a different direction. “I think we’ve had about all the heart to heart a Winchester can stomach in one sitting.”

“Winchester’s don’t have to be all stoic, Dean.” Sam replies. “There’s nothing wrong with being sensitive. In fact, I read in the Times that men who are-”

“Woah now! No need for learning, alright? Now scram before I sic Grimaldi on your ass.”

“Fine. I gotta do one more thing first though.” 

“We’re not gonna have to hug, are we? … Sam, please tell me-”

Sam drags his older brother into a hug so tight Dean can barely breathe. Dean puts up a fight, but deep down he needs the contact. The confirmation that Sam’s okay with him being who he is, not like so many others who would want nothing to do with the real Dean.

After a few moments, Dean digs his jagged nails into Sam’s arm, causing the younger boy to wince and pull away. “Go call your girlfriend, Sam.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, we’re just friends!” Sam whines. His phone rings, and his eyes go wide. “Okay, that’s her, I’ll be in my room, call me when you’re getting dinner, uh. That’s it, I gotta go-”

He takes off for his bedroom, long legs extended as he sprints away. 

“Love you too, bitch!”

Muffled, from down the hall, he can hear Sam’s response of “Jerk!” and that’s good enough for him. Dean leans back on the couch and closes his eyes. He could get used to this. Being himself, being a brother for once and not a sister. Dean chuckles. Who would’ve thought? Maybe people like him get the chance at a happy life just the same as anyone else. Take that, universe.

**Author's Note:**

> hopefully this was uhm. not too horribly written hdsfhdsfhdf comments are GREATLY appreciated i love u all and i hope you have a great day <3 dean winchester is trans and ronald mcdonald is gay
> 
> come follow me on tumblr dot hell! my main is @/himbodad and my spn sideblog is @/genderenvywinchester


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